Hospice or Euthanasia?

Dearest,
I've loved you since I was 10 years old. It hasn't always been an easy relationship, and I'm not going to say I was always happy to see you. We've seen the highs and lows of passion and intensity and utter neglect. But through it all, you were always there for me, waiting for me to come around again.

You haven't been strong lately. Not as strong as you used to be, and we both know it. I suspected something was going on for a while now. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you can't live forever, or at least longer than me. These things happen, and when the specialist told me the news yesterday I nearly wept. How can such a relationship end like this? Memories have been flooding back over the past hours of all the happy hours we've spent together. Even the not-so-happy hours.

The poor children. They'll recover faster than I will, but will they ever know what a special gift you have been to them? I believe they will look back fondly. We have so many pictures of you with them, I especially love the Christmas cards we sent.

I know you'll forgive me if I find another, and I think for the sake of the children, it's important that I do replace you. I hope it makes you feel better knowing that the work you've begun will be carried on until they grow and leave this house.

But your days are numbered. The specialist tells me you can't hold out much longer. I hope I can find someplace where you will be happy in your last days, but it's not always possible. I'd never want to cause anyone pain.

All pianos die sometime.